


Isabel's First Year - Untitled

by SunshineNici



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hufflepuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineNici/pseuds/SunshineNici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Harry Potter inspired, multi-chapter story I am writing for my daughter, Isabel, who has just turned 11. The first chapter was delivered to our house by an unknown sender and more chapters will arrive as they are written. The final chapter will be included in a printed book with an autograph from the author (me!), which hopefully will still be a surprise.  </p><p>Isabel is a Muggle born eleven year old from Australia who discovers she has won a scholarship to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If she can convince her mum and dad to let her go, she is sure she'll be sorted into Hufflepuff. But then what? Will she make friends? Will she recognise people from the book series? Why are students suddenly falling ill and turning green?<br/>Join Isabel during her first year at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Isabel Charlotte E*** clutched her mum’s hand tightly, her blue eyes widening as another group of oddly dressed people disappeared, along with a trolley teetering with luggage, into the solid brick wall. The dizzying mass of morning commuters, who swarmed around the busy train station, didn’t seem to notice as they rushed to meet departing trains and go about their normal Thursday. This particular Thursday though, was anything but normal for eleven year old Isabel. Her blonde hair was tied back in a long ponytail and her usual choice of t-shirt and shorts suddenly made her feel more self-conscious than she had intended when she got dressed that morning. Isabel and her mum were seated on a bench, a little way along from the completely ordinary looking brick wall, watching in astonishment. This wall though, was anything but ordinary. Over the last hour, at least a hundred mums, dads, and children of all ages, vanished before their very eyes, stepping effortlessly through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Even though Isabel had spent weeks preparing for this moment, she still wondered if she might be dreaming. Could she really be about to step through the wall herself and board a train bound for magic school?

***

The story of how an eleven year old Australian girl ended up at King’s Cross station on the morning of September 1st, begins a few months earlier, on a wintry July morning. Heavy rain was pounding on Isabel’s bedroom window and it was still dark outside as she stirred from her slumber. She checked the time on her phone and groaned. Five thirty was not a reasonable hour to be getting up, but she knew the incessant beating of the rain would stop her from falling back asleep.

Isabel didn’t mind the miserable weather they had been having over the winter holidays. She was quite content to lay in bed, or on the couch, and play games on her phone, read, or watch movies. It was peaceful at her mum’s house. When she was at her dad’s house she was kept busy looking after her little sister Grace. Chasing after a toddler all day was exhausting. She was grateful for the days at her mum’s when she had time to herself, even if she did sometimes get lonely and miss her school friends. As much as she liked school though, it was still nice to be on holidays and she really didn’t want this week to end.

Ten minutes into watching a video on her phone, Isabel’s bedroom suddenly lit up as lightning struck in the dark sky. Her heart skipped a beat and she inwardly chastised herself for leaving her blinds open, a habit her mum had told her off for many times. As she reached up to draw the blinds shut, something outside the window caught her eye. It was still dark outside and any last trace of the moon was hidden by the thick blanket of rain clouds. Isabel peered through the open blinds and realised that the front porch light had come on. A faint yellow glow was illuminating her mum’s car in the driveway. It must have been the lightning, she thought to herself as she tugged on the cord that made the wooden blinds close. Her breath caught in her throat as the slats snapped together. She had seen something outside, just as the blinds had been closing. She froze, kneeling on her bed, her hand still gripping the cord, staring at the closed blinds. Had she seen what she thought she had seen?

The cord slipped through her fingers as she reached tentatively for the one that would open them again. Pulling as gently as possible, Isabel began to ease the blinds open, hoping with all her might that all she would see was darkness. As the slats separated she saw it! Her scream filled the silent air and she tumbled backwards off the bed and onto the floor.

Isabel almost screamed again when the overhead light came on, but she swallowed her surprise when she saw her mum’s worried face.

“What on earth happened?” her mum demanded as she helped Isabel to sit up on the edge of the bed. As Isabel’s eyes adjusted to the light she realised her mum looked as equally cross as she did concerned. “You scared me half to death,” she said, her expression softening a little.

Isabel twisted around to look out the window, but with the bedroom light now on, she couldn't make out anything.

“There was something out there,” she said. “I saw... wings. And... yellow eyes. Huge yellow eyes. It was flapping. It was an owl, I think.”

“An owl?” Her mum said, disbelievingly. “I don't think we have owls around here. Come on, back into bed.”

Isabel glanced nervously towards the half open blinds.

“No really, mum. There was something out there.”

Her mum leaned across the bed and peered into the darkness.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “It’s almost six o’clock bub, not time for getting up yet.” She held up the corner of the quilt, urging Isabel to get back into bed, but Isabel didn’t move.  
“Please can we go and have a look? You’re awake now anyway.”

Her mum sat down on the bed and sighed. “Is this about Hogwarts again?”

Isabel’s eleventh birthday had been in April and she had spent the whole day waiting for a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to arrive. Eventually her mum had gently explained that she didn't think a letter was going to come. She had said that Harry Potter was just a story and there was no such thing as Hogwarts, except in people’s imaginations. Her mum had then been forced to confess that the Hogwarts letter Isabel received on her tenth birthday was a gift with purchase, and had been included with the wand her mum had ordered online. She had played along and devised a fanciful story about an error that occurred, causing the letter to be delivered a year early. Isabel shuddered at the memory. It had been a cruel realisation that there wasn’t an exciting adventure waiting for her when she turned eleven. Even a Harry Potter movie marathon over the following days had not quelled the disappointment that plagued the pit of her stomach. Only as the weeks turned into months did she begin to forgive her mum and find peace in accepting that the world of witches and wizards would have to remain in her head.

“No, it’s not about Hogwarts. I told you, I’m over that. There really is something out there!”

The volume of Isabel’s voice was starting to rise and she knew her mum would be worried about waking her partner, asleep in the other room, so she relented.

“One quick look and then I’m going back to bed,” she said, in the exasperated tone she used when she knew Isabel had won.

Isabel could tell that her mum was irritated so she didn't object to leading the way and hurried out of the bedroom, flicking on every light switch she passed, as they made their way downstairs.

Standing side by side at the front door, Isabel’s mum gestured sarcastically at the knob. There was no way her mum was going to hang around for long, so despite her trepidation, Isabel turned the handle cautiously and cracked the door open, peering through the gap into the yellow glow of the porchlight on the driveway. Triumphantly she threw the door wide open and it was her mum’s turn to scream.

“I told you,” Isabel said excitedly, pointing to a large grey owl that was standing perfectly still on the doormat, sheltered from the rain by the eaves.

Her mum removed the hand she had clapped over her mouth and leaned in closer to look at the owl through the screen door.

“Wait a minute,” she said, “it’s not even… .”

Her statement about it not being real was cut off when the owl suddenly flapped its broad wings, as if to say I am real thank you very much. The sound of the wings beating against the door and the rush of wind in their faces left her mum in stunned silence.

The two of them glanced toward the stairs, both having the same thought about whether the lights coming on, the front door opening, or the scream had woken Isabel’s mum’s partner, but there was no movement from the landing above. Lily the dog must have been snuggled under the covers, for even she didn’t venture downstairs. Isabel and her mum turned their attention back to the owl on the doormat, its round yellow eyes staring at them, unblinking.

“There’s an owl at the front door,” Isabel’s mum said stupidly, stating the obvious.

Isabel crouched down for a closer look and stared right back at the owl through the screen door.

“Is that...?” she started, pointing down towards the mat.

Her mum knelt down beside her and they both squinted their eyes trying to see through the ruffled grey feathers.

“What?” Her mum asked, leaning so close to the door that her forehead pressed against the security mesh.

“A letter,” said Isabel. “There, under its foot. See?”

Sure enough, they could both see that the owl was standing on something. Whether it was a letter or not, they had no way of knowing from this side of the door.

“We have to open the door,” Isabel said excitedly, but from the look on her mum’s face Isabel could see that she was not quite as keen on that idea.

“We do not want it to come inside the house,” her mum replied. “If we open the door hopefully it’ll fly off, or at least move back and we can slip outside. I have no idea why I’m even suggesting this,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head. “I don't know a thing about owls. It might rip our faces off with its talons.”

Isabel was fairly certain this owl was not going to rip their faces off, so one after the other they squeezed outside, Isabel latching the door behind them. They crept along the side of the house to keep away from the owl and avoid the still pouring rain.

As predicted, the owl flapped its wings when forced back by the opening door and perched itself on the side mirror of Isabel’s mum’s car, its feathers repelling the droplets that now ran down its face and body. Isabel and her mum kept well back, and waited to see what the owl would do next. It continued to stare at them from it’s new position.

“He’s probably thinking, stupid muggles,” said Isabel, and her mum sniggered.

They were in a standoff now, neither party moving towards the other. Finally, Isabel began inching forward. It wasn’t like her to take the lead in unfamiliar situations, but if the owl had a Hogwarts letter tied to his leg, she wanted to make sure she got to it before he got fed up with them and flew away.

Slowly she crept forward, staying out of the rain as much as possible and also keeping a close watch for any sign of movement from the owl, but he remained perfectly still. The letter was now hanging down the back of the side mirror, obscured from sight. The only clue it was there was the neat string bow tied around the owl’s leg. Once she was right alongside the owl, Isabel reached out and pinched one of the bow’s loose strings, dragging it gently downwards to free the knot. As soon as the tension in the knot gave way, the owl, without warning, beat his strong wings and rose effortlessly into the air, flying off into the dark sky over Isabel’s cowering form.

The letter was lying face down next to the car’s tyre when Isabel finally dared to open her eyes, sure the owl had gone. She reached out and grabbed it, shaking off the water that seemed to sit on its surface, as her mum took hold of her elbow and helped her to stand.

“Wow, that was something,” her mum said shakily. “You were so close to it. That was really brave.”

Isabel didn’t reply. She turned over the letter and in the golden porch light saw something she was not expecting at all. The letter was addressed to her mum. In the top left-hand corner was an official looking logo with the letter M at its centre, and her mum’s name and address calligraphed in blue ink, still perfectly clear and unaffected by the rain. She turned to face her mum, her eyes wide, handing her the letter without saying anything. Her mum turned it over, examining the outside of the heavy parchment envelope before she finally said, “let’s get inside where it’s warm and dry. We can have a look at it together, ok?” She put her hand on Isabel’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Once they were settled on the couch and Isabel had dried herself off as much as possible, her mum handed her the envelope.

“Go on, open it. You deserve it after being the one to get it from the owl.” Her mum put her hand on her chest and let out a deep sigh. She was obviously still shaken by their experience.

The envelope was sealed with deep blue wax into which the same M logo had been embossed. Isabel carefully peeled it from the parchment, trying not to damage the seal or tear the envelope. She pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it, scanning the same handwriting and blue ink that was on the front of the envelope.

“What does it say?” her mum asked, leaning back against the couch and closing her eyes. Isabel read:

Dear Ms P******,  
It gives me great pleasure to inform you that, owing to extraordinary magical abilities, your daughter, Isabel Charlotte E***, has been selected as this year's recipient of the International Student Exchange scholarship. A place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been reserved for her.  
I understand this may come as a surprise; therefore, I have arranged for a local representative to meet with you and Mr E*** on Saturday at 11:30 am to answer any questions you may have.  
I look forward to meeting you and Isabel in London.  
Yours faithfully,  
Candi Bott  
Student Exchange Program, Department of International Magical Cooperation, Ministry of Magic, London

Isabel swallowed hard and glanced sideways at her mum, who still had her eyes closed, a slight frown at the edges of her lips. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel. There is no way her mum would have finally admitted to arranging the first Hogwarts letter, only to try and start the game up again with another fake one. Isabel doubted that there was anywhere in Australia that you could hire an owl to deliver post anyway. It certainly seemed real. It’s just that it also seemed too crazy to be true. Hogwarts wasn’t real, was it?

“Mum?” Isabel ventured, her voice quavering a little.

She held out the letter to her mum who opened her eyes and turned to look at her. Taking it from Isabel she read through it several times before simply saying, “I guess we need to ask your dad to hang around when he brings you home on Saturday morning.”

Isabel nodded, she felt a tiny bit of excitement creep over her which she hurriedly pushed deep down inside herself. Even if someone from Hogwarts did turn up on Saturday, and this whole thing wasn’t an elaborate prank, there was still no way her mum and dad would let her go to London. Would they? She didn’t even want to consider that her wildest dreams could turn out to be real and then be taken away by the two people she loved the most.


	2. Chapter 2

Isabel rolled over in the darkness for what seemed like the hundredth time. She hadn’t managed to sleep much over the last few nights, and she was starting to think she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight at all. In the morning, her dad would drive her back to her mum’s house and then, hopefully, the validity of the mysterious letter would be proven. If someone from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did arrive to speak to her parents, there would be no question that Hogwarts was indeed, real.

Although Isabel’s mum and dad had maintained a friendly relationship since they got divorced, they didn’t go out of their way to spend time together, which was Isabel’s first clue that the letter had not been sent by her mum. Her mum’s voice had trembled, and then squeaked unnaturally, when she asked Isabel’s dad if he could spare an hour on Saturday morning to go over the paperwork for enrolling Isabel in high school, which actually wasn’t entirely a lie. As the two of them had previously discussed, and subsequently agreed on which school Isabel would be attending, her dad had accepted the invitation without hesitation.

In the hours that dragged by over the last few days, Isabel had imagined over and over a scenario in which her mum and dad told her that she could not attend Hogwarts. Occasionally she let her mind’s eye wander to a point where her mum was smiling and her dad was nodding encouragingly, but she couldn’t bring herself to allow these imaginary parents to actually say yes. She knew that if she started getting her hopes up, it would hurt so much more when they said no.

Rolling over again, Isabel slid her hand under her pillow and felt around for the letter that had been delivered by the owl. The stiff parchment had become soft and pliable after being unfolded, read, and refolded dozens of times, not to mention slept on for the last three nights. Isabel had every word memorised, but it was the blue flowing handwriting that intrigued her the most. She loved mysteries and had never been someone who just accepted things without question. Who was Candi Bott? Would she be the one to knock on the door tomorrow? Isabel had decided she must be related to Bertie Bott, inventor of the famous Every Flavour Beans which appeared in the Harry Potter stories. It was agonising not being able to discuss her theories with her mum while she was at her dad’s house. Isabel’s dad was not familiar with Hogwarts, or Harry Potter, he was more of a science fiction fan, and had recently built a Tardis to complete her Doctor Who themed bedroom. She was certain that if the Doctor had appeared at her front door and asked her to be his companion, her dad would have waved her off with enthusiasm.

Come on, Isabel told herself sternly, you have to go to sleep. She knew that there may come a time tomorrow when she would have to make a strong case for being allowed to leave Australia and go to magic school, instead of regular school, and she needed to have her wits about her. If someone from Hogwarts really did come to meet her parents in the morning, she was only going to have one shot at convincing them to let her go. She needed to be able to give it everything she had. Isabel closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. The exhausting effort it took to keep the legendary castle from invading her thoughts, lulled her into a restless sleep.

***

As she stared out the car window, watching the Adelaide Hills rolling by, Isabel couldn’t believe Saturday morning had finally arrived. The letter was safely tucked inside her bag and eleven thirty was alarmingly close.

“Are you ok?” her dad asked. “I thought you were happy with the school your mum and I have agreed on.”

“Oh,” Isabel replied, realising her dad must have thought she was worrying about the non-existent high school forms her mum had promised. “No, I’m fine.” She forced a smile onto her face. Once her dad had turned his attention back to the road, she went back to looking out the window and trying not to feel as though she was going to vomit.

They pulled into her mum’s driveway, right where the owl had been only a few days ago. It was just after eleven o’clock. Her mum’s face appeared at the door, and as she opened it, Lily the Australian Terrier rushed out to greet them.

“C’mon Lil,” Isabel said, ushering the small, orange haired dog back toward the front door.

Her mum wrapped her into an awkward hug before holding the door open for both Isabel and her dad to come inside.

“Hello!” Isabel’s mum’s partner exclaimed as he shook hands with Isabel’s dad. “Hello Isabel,” he said, a few moments later, “had a good few days?”

“Yes,” Isabel mumbled. It was hard to imagine a more tense situation. She just wanted the next hour to be over already.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I’ve got some work to get on with, so I’ll leave you to it.” He gave Isabel’s dad a wave and disappeared upstairs to the study. Isabel didn’t know how he could leave them. The three of them had talked endlessly about the letter before Isabel had left for her dad’s house, and he had helped them formulate the plan to have Isabel’s dad there when the Hogwarts representative was meant to arrive. He must surely be curious to know what was going to happen. Isabel was certain they must have continued to talk about Hogwarts while she had been gone. Between the two of them, they had probably come up with a way to let her down gently.

Isabel tried to tune out her mum and dad’s small talk as she settled herself at the kitchen table, and watched absentmindedly as her mum made a pot of tea. It was impossible to pay attention to what was being said. She needed all of her willpower to stop herself from bursting into tears. Isabel couldn’t make sense of the waves of emotion that were crashing over her, so she concentrated as hard as she could on holding herself together while she waited for the visitor to arrive.

Luckily, her mum had only just begun to pretend to look for the imaginary paperwork when there was a loud knock at the front door. Isabel’s heart leapt into her throat as Lily began to bark excitedly. Isabel, her mum, and Lily were at the door before her dad registered what was going on, his last sentence cut short by the three of them rushing out of the room.

Her mum looked equally as terrified as Isabel felt as she turned the handle and opened the front door. Isabel felt the blood rush from her head as though a waterfall were pouring over her. This couldn’t be right. The woman standing on the front porch couldn’t be from Hogwarts. She must be collecting for a charity, or a neighbour whose kids had kicked a ball over the fence.  
“G’day,” she said brightly, most definitely with an Australian accent.

Lily began jumping and scratching at the screen door so the woman didn’t say anything more until Isabel’s mum pushed it open and gestured for her to enter, Lily scrambling back inside after her.

Isabel surveyed the disappointing figure. She was wearing jeans and a knee length trench coat from which a green scarf was peeking out. Her long black hair was tied back from her face and impossibly white teeth gleamed against her dark skin. There was no denying that the tall woman was beautiful, but there wasn’t a broomstick, wand, or pointy hat in sight. Isabel’s heart landed in her stomach with a thud.

“I’m Neylani,” the woman said, as she offered her hand to Isabel’s mum. “Neylani Jarrah.”

“Nice to meet you,” Isabel’s mum replied, an air of confusion in her voice. This woman was obviously not who her mum had been expecting either.

“Did you receive the letter from the Ministry of Magic?” Neylani asked Isabel’s mum.

Isabel felt as though a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown in her face. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and goosebumps appeared on her arms. Neylani was from Hogwarts!  
“Yes, we received the letter,” Isabel’s mum replied. “My ex-husband is here too, although,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “ I have to confess that he doesn’t know about it yet. We didn’t know how to explain it to him.” She laughed nervously.

“That’s ok,” said Neylani reassuringly, “I’m sure he’ll understand once I explain everything.”

Isabel shot her mum a worried look. It seemed that over the last few days her mum had come to terms with the news that her daughter was a witch, or at least she didn’t seem to be saying no to Hogwarts right away. She did invite Isabel’s dad to meet with Neylani after all, and Isabel could sense that her mum was almost as nervous as she was about breaking the news to him. The three of them, followed by Lily, made their way back into the kitchen. Isabel’s mum indicated that Isabel and Neylani should sit down at the dining room table.

“Tea?” Isabel’s mum offered, as Neylani slid into the seat next to Isabel.

“No, thank you,” she replied, before turning to Isabel’s dad. “Hello, I’m Neylani Jarrah.” She extended her hand which Isabel’s dad shook, a slightly confused look on his face.  
“I’m here to give you some wonderful news about your daughter,” she went on.

Isabel’s heart beat quickened. She wondered if Neylani realised that this news was not going to sound wonderful to her dad. It was more likely to sound crazy, and he would probably think the whole thing was a joke.

Isabel’s mum joined them at the table, but Neylani remained focussed on Isabel’s dad.

“Your daughter is a witch.” She ended the blunt statement with a triumphant smile, but it was not returned by Isabel’s dad.

Now it was Isabel’s mum who looked like she was about to burst into tears. Her eyes glistened and the tip of her nose reddened. On the other hand, Isabel’s dad looked angry. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed together.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, his words slipping from his lips like a hiss from a snake. He looked from Neylani to Isabel’s mum, and back again.

Isabel had thought he might start laughing and brush it off as a prank, which was in keeping with his usual jovial style, but the terrified look on her mum’s face seemed to alert him to the fact that this wasn’t a joke at all. Isabel knew better than to try and say anything, so she kept her mouth shut.

“I know this comes as a surprise, it always does for people who are not witches or wizards themselves, or Muggles as you might have heard from the Harry Potter books. The thing is, it’s not just a story, and something wonderful has happened for your daughter. Isabel has won a scholarship, all expenses paid, to the most famous magic school in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Neylani’s smile disappeared as she surveyed Isabel’s parents carefully. Her eyes darted from one shocked face to the other, waiting for a response to her announcement, but all that was returned was silence. Isabel had been counting on her mum, a Harry Potter fan herself, to jump to her defence, but instead she was pulling a tissue from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes. Perhaps she was just overwhelmed by the reality of having Neylani here, and the potential fight they were about to have with Isabel’s dad. More worryingly though, it occurred to Isabel that maybe her mum wasn’t going to be the ally she thought she would be. Isabel’s palms were sweaty and her heart was pounding in her chest, she silently begged her parents to say something, anything.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny,” her dad said, finally. “And if it is serious, then the answer is no. Isabel is not going to any other school than the one her mother and I agreed on.”  
Neylani swallowed hard as Isabel’s dad rose from the table.

“I assume this is why you asked me to hang around today?” he said to Isabel’s mum, waving his hand in Neylani’s direction. “There are no forms to sign?”

“That’s right,” her mum’s voice trembled. “We received a letter about Hogwarts, and we, Isabel and I, thought it would be best to wait and see if it was true or not. We didn’t want to tell you in case it was just someone being funny. I’m as shocked as you are that Ms Jarrah turned up here today. Maybe we should hear more of what she has to say?”

There it was, the spark of hope that Isabel had been waiting for. Her mum was on her side after all. Isabel sat up a little straighter in her chair.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her dad spat back. He pushed his chair in at the table and strode confidently out of the kitchen.

Both Isabel’s mum and Neylani scrambled out of their chairs and hurried after Isabel’s dad. Isabel stayed where she was, the tears had started and she knew they wouldn’t stop any time soon. Sadness, frustration, and anger pulsed through her veins to every part of her body, and spilled down her cheeks as hot, salty tears. In that moment she hated everyone. She hated her dad for saying no. She hated her mum for not standing up for her. She hated Neylani for not being able to make her parents say yes. She hated being herself. She wished she was someone else. Someone who didn’t know anything about Hogwarts, and who wasn’t feeling the stomach churning disappointment that threatened to burst from her at any moment. Isabel lay her head in her hands and let the tears fall freely onto the dining room table.

It was the touch of someone's hand on her shoulder that made her look up. She was taken aback to see Neylani standing next to her. Across the table, her mum was helping her dad back into his seat. He had a strange look on his face, almost as if it were devoid of all expression. His eyes stared ahead aimlessly, if he closed them, he could well have been asleep. He looked quite peaceful, in an odd way.

“Now, where were we?” Neylani said as she handed Isabel a wad of tissues. Neylani’s cheerful demeanor had returned, but Isabel’s mum looked as though she had seen a ghost. To Isabel’s relief, her mum’s usual mannerisms were still displayed on her face and she seemed to be her normal self.

“So, good news, your daughter is a witch,” Neylani said again, this time with an airiness to her tone.

Isabel’s mum laughed nervously and cast a wary glance at her former husband, who still stared into the space behind Neylani’s head.

Neylani folded her hands on the table in front of her and continued, “You’re familiar with Hogwarts, I assume?” she asked.

Isabel thought about her bedroom on the floor above them, decorated to look like the Hufflepuff common room. Her was mum wasn’t just familiar with Hogwarts, she was a super Harry Potter fan.

“Yes, very familiar. But until today, I thought it was just a story.” Isabel’s mum said. She seemed to be having a hard time digesting what had gone on between Neylani and Isabel’s dad. A furrow appeared between her brows as she listened to what Neylani was saying, and every now and then her eyes flicked toward her ex-husband, sitting next to her silently, which was a first for him.

“Harry Potter is a real person and Hogwarts is a real place,” Neylani explained. “The series of books is a story about true events that happened in our world, written in a way that even Muggles can enjoy. There is a certain magic weaved through the words that makes the story easy to understand, yet hard to believe. More people know about the wizarding world than ever before, yet it’s still a secret.”

Isabel didn’t fully understand what Neylani was saying. The one thing she heard loud and clear though was that Harry Potter and Hogwarts was real. She had always clung to the hope that it was true, even when others said it was just a children’s story, deep down she truly believed that such a wonderful world couldn’t be made up.

“The reason I’m here today,” Neylani went on, “is because the Harry Potter stories weren’t only read by Muggles. Harry Potter, of course, became a household name in Great Britain, with books and articles written about him since the night he became the boy who lived. The thing is, for a long time his story didn’t spread that far outside of Great Britain and Ireland. International magical communities didn’t know who Harry Potter was. Adults probably heard his name around the time of the First, and then Second British Wizarding War. But children had never heard of Hogwarts or Harry Potter. The popularity of the books and movies changed all of that. Suddenly, children all over the world knew about Harry Potter, and they all wanted to go to Hogwarts.” Neylani broke into a huge smile, “Me included,” she laughed.

“Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic were bombarded with letters from children asking for a place at the school. Plus, after the second war was over and Voldemort was gone for good, the number of local Muggle born witches and wizards being admitted to Hogwarts went through the roof. The Quill of Acceptance was going mad for months writing names in the Book of Admittance. Hogwarts couldn’t take on all those new students and accept requests from around the world too. But, and this is where we come in,” Neylani gave Isabel a little nudge with her elbow, “the Ministry of Magic saw an opportunity to strengthen international relations, so they set up an international scholarship. One student from anywhere in the world gets a place at Hogwarts each year, and this year, it’s you.”

Isabel’s head was spinning as she tried to take everything in. It kind of made sense to her, all these kids reading about Hogwarts and wanting to go there, wanting to see where the famous Harry Potter went to school. She had often thought to herself that if she was a witch she would rather go to Hogwarts than the Australian school, wherever that was.

“If I didn’t get the scholarship to Hogwarts,” Isabel enquired, “what would have happened then?”

“You’re still a witch,” Neylani reassured her. “You would have been accepted into our local school instead.”

“Did you go there?” Isabel asked.

“No, I was one of the lucky ones, like you. I got a scholarship to Hogwarts, and then I became their Australian representative.”

Isabel’s eyes widened. She knew that Neylani worked for Hogwarts, but she was surprised to learn that she had gone to school there as well.

“I’m also a chaser for the Thundelarra Thunderers,” she said with a laugh, playing on Isabel’s obvious wonderment. “I was captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team when I was at Hogwarts.”

“How long ago was that?” Isabel asked.

“Hmm, a while now,” she said, a look of concentration coming over her face. “Actually, now that I think about it, I started at Hogwarts ten years ago. There hadn’t been another Australian student when I started, and you are first person I’ve visited, which will make you the second Aussie student to attend, ever. Pretty cool, huh?”

Isabel’s heart sank, her mum hadn’t actually said she could go yet, and her dad was still staring off into the distance. The blank expression hadn’t moved from his face. Isabel turned to her mum. “Mum, does this mean I can go? And what’s happened to Dad?” she asked, eyeing her father nervously.

Her mum smiled and patted Isabel’s dad on the arm. “Neylani thought it would be best if your dad stayed to hear about the program.”

“I don’t want to hear any more about Hogwarts if you’re going to say I can’t go. I want to know now, yes or no?” Isabel knew it was a risk asking her mum to decide right then. She had no idea if the plan was to bring her dad out of his stupor to join in the decision, or if her mum was planning on deciding for the both of them. Isabel just knew she couldn't take it any more. Hogwarts seemed to be frustratingly within her grasp, all she needed now was her mum to give her permission to close her fingers and grab it.

“Isabel,” her mum started, her face suddenly more serious than she had ever seen it before. “I want this for you. A lot still needs to be sorted out and organised, and I am sure that Neylani has more to tell us, but you know that the only way your dad is going to agree to allow you to go to Hogwarts is with magical intervention. You can see I have already allowed that to happen,” she waved her hand in Isabel’s dad’s direction, “but you need to be ok with it as well. You need to know that I trust you. Whatever you decide, I’ll support. Ultimately, whether you decide to attend Hogwarts or not, is entirely up to you.”

“I… ,” Isabel began.

“You’ll be leaving your family for months at a time. And what about your little sister Grace, and Lily? You won’t be able to pop home any time you like, and I am sure you will miss all your school and church friends. This isn’t a Harry Potter situation, Isabel, you have a whole life here that will go on without you, and lots of people who love you, and will miss you just as much as you’ll miss them. I’m not trying to discourage you, I just want to make sure you are thinking this through carefully.” The strained muscles in her mum’s face showed how truly conflicted she was.

Isabel’s voice caught in her throat. She looked from her mum’s face to Neylani, who was tactfully flipping through a book she had slid from the bookshelf behind her. Hogwarts was real. Someone who had actually been there was sitting right next to her. Isabel had absolutely no doubt that it was Hogwarts or nothing. She didn't want to go to another school, magic or regular, not when the famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was on offer. She wasn’t really being asked to choose which school she was going to attend, she knew that really she was choosing between being a witch, and being an ordinary, non-magical person: a Muggle. When she thought of it that way, there was really no choice to be made at all.

“Mum,” she said firmly, “I’m going to Hogwarts.”


End file.
